Chapter 41 - GROUNDED OUT

It had been a long worrisome night for Sumner. The nearest place he could hide Nicky's boat near Sawyer's landing was about 50 yards east of the cove, in a crevasse between two great granite boulders. When he'd pulled in there, near the top of the tide, he could actually look out over the rocks and into the cove, although it was dark as Toby's arse, and thick of fog. But as the tide fell he constantly had to shove the runabout off emerging boulders in the cleft, stumbling on the rockweed, to keep it afloat. His view, and his hearing of what was happening in the cove became limited. By morning he was scrambling up and down the rocks repeatedly to watch and listen, and push the boat out.

Sumner's nervous anxiety gnawed a hole in his gut, and Nicky's strong black coffee only made it worse. Three times in the night he'd hurried up through the soaking wet meadow to spy on the gangsters in his house. They'd left every light burning all night, but he hadn't seen any hint of movement. When the sky lightened and colors seeped back into the world, he was soaked to the bone, shivering, and exhausted. Shoving the runabout off for what he hoped was the last time before low water, he slipped and scraped his shins badly on a barnacle-covered outcrop. The wounds stung as he wallowed in the salt water, pushing the boat. All he had on below the waist were his hightop sneakers and now badly ripped jeans, and his feet were half-frozen.

"O god I hope they're all right," Sumner prayed, not for the fist time that night, and he sat down in the runabout with his arms folded on the steering wheel. He rested his head on his arms, swearing he wouldn't let the fatigue get him. Sumner closed his eyes.

The sound of an outboard starting up jolted him awake, and he scrambled up the rocks, throwing himself flat just shy of the top, to stare over into the cove. Sumner could just barely see the outline of Sawyer's dock, and the shape of a boat up alongside in the mist. A cluster of figures were standing in the boat, and he recognized the huge figure of Bobo.. and that must be Monk. He heard Monk rasping orders. Who was that at the controls? Yes, it was Dunk. And the darkhaired figure? O Jesus, it was Mary. And she had her arms around a smaller figure.

"O please, tell me it isn't Jesse," Sumner prayed. But who else could it be? Then his blood froze. "Where's Liz? O god, what's happened to Liz?" He nearly cried out aloud.

The boat was separating from the dock, and as it curved toward him, he saw it was his own whaler, now pointing out into the reach and throttling up. Sumner flung himself down the rocks and leaped into Nicky's runabout. But it was high and dry. He must have been asleep long enough for the tide to leave it stranded. He jumped out and threw every ounce of strength he had into lifting it and levering it over the rocks. But it was too heavy, and too wedged. He could hear EQUAL'S going up on the plane, and headed east. Sumner was moaning in agony, and straining every muscle. But it was no use.

"FIVE CENTS, FIVE CENTS, this is DEUCES, ovah," Sumner gasped into the CB.

"Go DEUCES," came Nicky's reply.

"They're headed east in my boat. Monk and Bobo, with Dunk and Mary.. and Jesse I think. I've fucked up wicked. I'm aground...." he trailed off. Sumner rested his head on the steering wheel and tears ran down his face.

"DEUCES this is FIVE CENTS. I copy. Will try and come getcha. Ovah."

"OK, FIVE CENTS," Sumner said, pulling himself together. "If I'm not here, I'll be up the house. I didn't see Chinetti on the boat. Ovah."

"10-4, DEUCES. Slingshot didn't answer my last call," Nicky replied. "Don't know where he's at. You didn't either, though. You there SPLITFINGER? SPLITFINGER this is FIVE CENTS, ovah." Sidearm didn't reply.

"OK, FIVE CENTS. I'm going up to check on the house. DEUCES out." Sumner took a deep breath. Maybe he could salvage something from his stupidity. He carried Nicky's long painter and her wrinkling anchor up to the top of the boulders, and wedged the hook securely in a crack. At least Nicky wouldn't lose her boat. Then he set off across the meadow one more time.

"Focus," Sumner demanded of himself. If there were more gangsters in the house, there was no sense in him rushing in emptyhanded. Even if Chinetti was alone, he probably had a gun, and he might have Liz as a captive.

Sumner slipped into the woods just shy of the road, as the bulk of his house took form ahead. He slipped along through the dense underbrush until he was well east, out of sight of the house, then he sprinted across the road and into his own woods. In another couple of minutes he was behind his workshop building, and he carefully slid up the back window, blessing the day he'd siliconed the sliders. He climbed into the building, and rummaged among his tools for a weapon, finally deciding on a rusty filleting knife he'd been meaning to clean and sharpen. Taking it in his right hand, he climbed back out the window, and circled round so he could approach the house from a blind angle.

Most of the house windows were open, but for their screens, and as soon as he was flat against the house and up close to one opening on the kitchen, he could hear Chinetti's voice. He seemed to be on the phone.

"Yuh. Dat's right Mr. Mainardi... Dey just left... Dat's right.. Well now we know where duh cowboy is, an we got somethin duh fishermen want.. Yuh.." Chinetti was almost fawning in his tone, and while he was focused on the caller, Sumner risked peering in the window. The mobster was facing the other way, toward where the phone was fastened to the wall, as Sumner had hoped. By craning his neck, Sumner could just see a revolver sitting on the kitchen table, maybe three strides away from the mobster.

"Yuh.. a course, Mr. Mainardi.. No, no, I promised you.." While Chinetti went on, Sumner hurried around to the back door. Flinging back the screen door he screamed like a banshee. The mobster froze, and Sumner had the knife up against his throat in a flash.

"Hang up the phone, Rizzo," Sumner ordered.

He could hear Mainardi squawking through the earpiece, "Rizzo?.. Rizzo?.. What the fu...?" Chinetti hung it up.

Sumner swung the gangster away from the table, and gave him a shove, stepping quickly to pick up the revolver. He glanced at it long enough to switch off the safety, then he pointed it at Chinetti. He lay the knife in the sink.

"OK. Where's my wife?" Sumner demanded.

Rizzo held his hands up in front of him, shrugging. "I don't know nuttin about no wife."

Sumner gestured for Chinetti to sit in a chair at the table, and the fat little man obliged.

"Where were they goin in the boat?" Sumner asked.

"To the sailboat."

"Where is it?"

Rizzo shrugged again. "Da kid said he knew."

"Why'd they take the girl and the little boy?" Sumner wanted to know.

"To trade for dah product, if the cowboy didn't have it awready."

"Cowboy?" Sumner demanded.

"I tought you knew im. Wahkuh. The coonass asshole," Rizzo replied.

"Of course," Sumner thought. "Cyr always did tag along in Walker's wake, I might have know the actor didn't have the cunning to pull this kind of prank. Walker may not have been the brightest light in the class, but he could pull off a screwball caper with a certain style."

"You don't know where they're goin?" Sumner demanded again. Chinetti shook his head.

"Well, if Mary and Dunk were tangled up in this, it was probably somewhere near her dig," Sumner reasoned to himself. "We never did check over to Rogue last night." He made a decision.

"OK, on your feet." Chinetti got up, still holding his hands up.

"Remember this," Sumner said. " My wife and my child are in danger here. Other people, too. I won't hesitate to kill you to protect them. If you try anything, I'd just as soon shoot you and not have to deal with you." Rizzo nodded.

"We're gonna get in your car and drive down into town," Sumner said, and he pointed toward the front door with the gun. As Chinetti obediently went out, Sumner grabbed a jacket hanging by the door and followed the little man. Rizzo got in the passenger side of the Lincoln. Then he slid over behind the wheel as Sumner got in behind him, keeping him covered with the revolver. Sumner draped the jacket over the revolver in his lap, and nodded for the mobster to start up the towncar, and head into Smithport.